


Hashbrowns

by Camucia



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Airports, Alcohol/Drinking, And Waffle House, Awkward Ben Solo, Businessman Ben Solo, College Student Rey (Star Wars), Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, In Which I Use My Extensive Knowledge and Experience With the ATL Airport, Snowed In, Southern Ben Solo, To Write Reylo Smut, some sugar daddy vibes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-22 16:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camucia/pseuds/Camucia
Summary: Rey Johnson: Senior mechanical engineering student at Georgia Tech by day, Waffle House waitress by night, constantly exhausted but always hard-working - and in desperate need to keep both her HOPE scholarship and personal finances afloat.Ben Solo: FAA operations chief, professional long-distance commuter, general people-hater - and the absolute last person who thought he’d make the rookie mistake of getting grounded at the Atlanta airport the day before Christmas Eve.Stuck at the airport meets snowed-in meets never-did-I-expect-to-write-socially-awkward-sugar-Daddy-Ben-Solo-but-here-we-are.





	1. Scattered

**Author's Note:**

> Oh good god what am I doing
> 
> ...for the sake of this story, we are assuming that the 2014 Snowpocalypse has become a distant memory forgotten by all, and no one learned their lesson. Which, let’s be honest with ourselves, fellow Georgians and Southerners - is exactly what is going to happen the next time we get any kind of winter accumulation, like it always does.

All Ben Solo wanted was a nice, quiet Christmas.

He had been so careful, so deliberate in his planning. Leave work early and fly out on Friday to Miami, spend the obligatory 36 hours with his parents, lie about needing to be back in DC (rather than spend the whole holiday in the _hell_ that was his parent’s overheated retirement home) _,_ then fly back on the 23rd, getting into National _just_ in time to take the last Sunday Metro to his condo in Arlington.

And there he would be for four glorious, uninterrupted days of solitude. There was nothing quite like a cushy federal government job during the holidays, and Ben had become well-practiced in the art of slipping back and forth between his two homes in Virginia and Georgia to avoid as much unnecessary contact with his coworkers as possible. He’d make an appearance at the office in DC on Friday before flying home to Atlanta, where he would lie about still being in DC to avoid the obligatory New Year’s parties and plans he was always invited to. Then, from privacy of his home in the woods just north of Fayetteville, he would hide out for five straight days of not having to deal with other people before a two-day work week.

It was the perfect plan. Too bad it had all gone _completely to hell._

 

Everything started, _of course,_ in Miami. For once in his life, Ben begrudgingly admitted that his father may have been right about something. The kitchen TV in the Solo household was only ever on CSPAN or the Weather Channel, and today was a Weather Channel day, complete with some reporter inciting the usual panic that drove their ratings. Han had grumbled something about Nashville getting hit by a storm that could turn ugly when it hit Atlanta, warning Ben to be cautious - which immediately caused Leia to, once again, _insist_ that Ben stay through Christmas. He made his usual excuses about work, sure that he’d beat the storm - he only had a bride layover in ATL before getting in to DCA.

After all, _he_ had never had any problems flying. It came with the territory of being a chief operations officer in the FAA.

 

So he said his goodbyes as quickly as he could in Miami before his mother could attempt to guilt-spiral him into staying, firmly ignoring the increasingly dire weather reports concerning Atlanta. Nothing _ever_ actually happened in Atlanta, after all. This was just fearmongering to drive up the Weather Channel’s ratings, and spurn people into buying all of the bread and milk in the entire metro area.

By the time the plane was circling over Hartsfield-Jackson, Ben swallowed a little tightly as he saw the completely stopped traffic on I-85, I-75, 285, I-20...  hell, even 675. But it was no need to panic - of course it would be bumper-to-bumper out there the day before Christmas Eve. Those low-hanging, dark grey clouds weren’t in the slightest bit ominous. He only had a two hour layover before he’d be on his way to DC.

 

The first delay wasn’t the end of the world, Ben assured himself as he asked the bartender in the Delta lounge to pour him a Woodford on the rocks. It was just some freezing rain, and nothing was sticking, he reasoned as he sank into a seat at the bar, glancing warily out the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the runways. He of all people knew that it was protocol to shut down the runways until risk assessment could clear the planes for takeoff and landing again. He’d just have to get an Uber home once he got to DC, since the Metro would be shut down by 11 on a Sunday.

The next delay was more concerning. If it weren’t for the fact that he was guaranteed a seat as an FAA employee, Ben would be seriously worried about getting home. It was dark outside now, but the runways positively _gleamed._ Ben steadfastly ignored the TV in the lounge, where some local newscaster was shrieking about highways and exits being shut down, as he ordered a double Makers, neat.

 

Then came the announcement when everything went straight to hell.

 

_“Attention, all passengers: Due to worsening weather conditions in the metro Atlanta area, all departing flights are delayed until further notice.”_

In the Delta lounge, there was irritated mumbling - but outside the door, Ben could hear where the teeming masses had all collectively shouted in anger at the news. He shuddered at the thought of being among them - thank god for his massive amount of frequent flier miles that let him seek out the relative refuge of the Sky Club lounge.

_“Attention, all passengers: Representatives are available to help with lodging and ground transportation.”_

“Ground transportation - now _that’s_ a laugh. I just heard that Uber and Lyft are only runnin’ SUVs right now, and the surge charge is unbelievable,” drawled the businessman in the seat next to Ben at the bar. Ben glanced down at the portly, sweaty man, who was scrolling through Twitter as he sucked in air through his teeth. “MARTA’s down too. Hotels are all full. Looks like we’re stuck here, ain’t we, buddy?”

Ben felt panic rise in his chest. If he stayed here as he was planning to originally, he would have to talk to this man for the rest of the evening - that was _not_ an option _._ “Sorry, man. I’ve got a room booked. Good luck getting out of here,” Ben lied as he drained his drink, backing away from the bar.

He scrolled through his phone rapidly as he paced the area in front of the windows, mentally tallying favors owed to him, and who would be the most likely to pick up - ah, _perfect._

_“Oh Ben, what have you gotten yourself into?”_

“Shut up, Hux. I’m stuck at Hartsfield-Jackson, and I know you always have a room booked around here on the weekends, and you’re not in town. I need it.”

_“Why do you need my room? Don’t you live… what is it, 15 minutes away? Just go home, Solo.”_

“It’s 20 minutes in normal traffic, which means two hours right now with the highways closed, and I don’t have my car - you don’t leave a Benz in long-term parking this time of year. I’m supposed to be up in DC, anyway - that’s why I’m even stuck here in the first place.”

_“Pity you only just now called, I just got off the phone with Cannaday - he’s there too. He was just about to Venmo me $500 for my room at the Hilton. I’d say you have about... ten minutes before he actually figures out how to use the app, poor old chap.”_

“I’ll pay you $200, and your department gets new laptops before anyone else does.”

_“$300, and I get to pick the model.”_

“Done.”

_“Always a pleasure, Solo. I’ll just have to call and break Cannaday’s heart. It’s the Garden Inn on the north end, and it’s under FAA Southeast. Leave the credit card in my name, I want my points.”_

Ben could punch a wall. The Hilton? Hux was going around, booking backup hotels for himself on the government’s dime… at the _Hilton?_ If he was going to slum it up, he at least wanted to be on the transit system, and not have to deal with… _busses_.

“Goddammit, Hux, why can’t you just stay at the Marriott that’s actually connected to the airport like everyone else does?”

_“Do I hear you being picky? Because it sounds like you’re being picky. And the longer you take complaining to me about the favor I’m doing for you, the more likely Cannaday is actually going to figure out how to download an app to send me money-”_

Ben hung up on him (he longed for the days of at least a flip phone, which was infinitely more satisfying than tapping a flat screen), but immediately pulled up Venmo to send Armitage Hux $300, a snowflake, and a middle finger emoji. Hux immediately texted back a kissing face and another middle finger, so Ben assumed that meant he had the room.

Sighing, he braced himself for facing the teeming horde that was Concourse A outside of the Delta Sky Lounge. He needed to get to ground transportation, and see if any of the shuttle busses were running to the hotels. In a worst case scenario, he’d just take long walk outside, all the way around to the north end of the airport. He had - what, three, four drinks in him? He could do this.

  


It was worse than the worst case scenario.

Ground transportation was a nightmare. Ben heard the screaming, saw the crowd, and immediately pivoted on his heel in favor of the sidewalk.

In his early days at the FAA, he practically lived at this airport and in its surrounding hotels. But he was younger then - an hour-plus hike through College Park late at night was hardly daunting for a young, fit, tall man like himself. But he was in his thirties now - he was still tall, fairly fit, but he miserably felt every one of his thirty-three years as it sleeted harder than ever, even soaking through his coat he wore in anticipation of DC weather and temperatures.

 

By the time he arrived in the hotel lobby, the only thing keeping him warm was his fury.

The lobby was, predictably, a madhouse. Filled with families, evidently an entire football team, screaming children - this was a far cry from the quiet calm of a decent hotel. Ben zoned in on his phone, concentrating on sending angry emails in an attempt to block out his surroundings as he waited to check in. He was soaked to the skin, freezing cold, and he could feel his fuse slowly burning down as he was _dangerously_ close to being sober.

“Next! I can help who’s next!”

Ben exchanged a brief, pitying look with the harried-looking manager, knowing that in this moment, the best thing he could do for this woman was be as efficient as possible.

“FAA Southeast? The reservation is under Armitage Hux.”

“Southeast? Local man, huh? One moment… yes, I have you in 403, Mr. Hux. Same card for damages and charges?”

 _Mr. Hux_ was going to be ordering some adult entertainment, that was for damn sure. It’s what Hux deserved for using government money funneled through his personal credit card to get points _at a fucking Hilton._ “Sure, why not.”

“All right, Mr. Hux, you’re all set - is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Actually… yes, ma’am, you can - where’s the closest liquor store?”

The manager’s professional demeanor broke to reveal a knowing smile. “You walked here from the airport, right? Don’t know how you missed it, it’s off Virginia Avenue, just past the Waffle House. You’ve got about half an hour before they close.”

“I came over on Hardin,” Ben replied distractedly as his brain only focused on the words _Waffle House…_ His mind immediately went to his halcyon days of college, drunk off his ass after football games in Athens, topless and freezing cold after screaming in the rain for three hours. Coffee, hash browns, a sickly-sweet waffle filled with pecans and drenched in syrup - that was _exactly_ what he needed right now.  

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be back. Don’t go giving my room away,” Ben managed with a smirk.

The manager dropped him a wink. “Bring me back a couple minis of Jack and I’ll cover your overnight dry cleaning, Mr. Hux.”

“Done. Good luck.”

 

 _Still got it,_ Ben thought to himself as he elbowed his way back out of the lobby. It wasn’t that he hated _everyone,_ it was just that most people tended to give him a headache if he was forced to be in their company for more than a few minutes at a time. And the more people he had to be around… the worse it got.

But now wasn’t the time to think of that. Ben was only focused on the glowing beacon that was the Waffle House sign, guiding his way through the ever-worsening sleet and freezing rain. It was a miracle he hadn’t actually fallen down yet, with the number of times he had slipped - and his commuter shoulder bag wasn’t helping matters, either.

The windows of the Waffle House were completely fogged over. It was impossible to tell how crowded it was, but knowing that how late it was and the fact that the whole airport just shut down, Ben braced himself for the worst. He shoved the door open, a merry jangle of bells accompanying where he nearly plowed over a tiny, elderly couple waiting just inside.

Ben went still as he assessed the situation. Amazingly, he had seen worse - but only because the average age was higher, and the BAC lower than he was used to seeing at a Waffle House this time of night.

 

“Welcome to Waffle House! Are you single?”

 

Ben’s head whipped around to lock eyes with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen working at a Waffle House - and he was counting the sweet, grandmotherly woman who had once packed him with two to-go waters when he had been _embarrassingly_ drunk once after a party.

Somehow, the conservative blue button-down and black apron were flattering on her, the unsightly visor managing to call attention to her wide, long-lashed eyes. Her high ponytail bounced slightly as she stretched out to bus dishes from the counter in front of her, giving Ben an appreciable glance at her slim waist and gloriously wide hips. But her smile… god, her _smile_ amid all of the horrors of today - Ben could practically feel his chest lighten as he stood a little straighter.

“Yes, I’m single,” he breathed, quickly aware of how red his ears had probably just become. Did his voice just crack? What was _wrong_ with him?!

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled all the wider, giving him a quick nod. “I’ll have a place for you at the counter in about ten minutes, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ben managed to blurt out. “I - I’m just going to step outside for a minute?”

“We’ll keep it warm for you!” Another much older waitress yelled, elbowing the young woman in the ribs with a cackle.

 

Ben maneuvered his way back outside, taking a moment to catch his breath in the freezing air. What - what _was_ that? Never in his life had he just seen someone and just… He shook his head, clearing his mind. He was just tired, that was all. Tired and delirious, and a gorgeous woman smiled at him - it was only natural for his heart to start beating a million miles a minute, and to imagine how she would feel in his arms.

He remembered his original purpose - alcohol. The solution to, and cause of, all life’s problems. Taking a brisk pace, Ben cut across parking lots to the still-bustling liquor store, doing all its business in the last 36 hours before Christmas. He was brutally efficient, as he was familiar with this particular liquor store. A fifth of Woodford that was way too much for tonight - but who cared. A massive handful of Jack singles for the plane ride tomorrow (and for the hotel manager who he absolutely _needed_ to take up on the offer of overnight dry cleaning - all he had in his bag was a pair of Christmas socks that his mother foisted off on him at the last minute), and a single Bailey’s because it was the holidays, after all.

 

By the time he got back to the Waffle House, conspicuous paper bag in hand, the place was practically deserted. A handful of booths were taken, and there were only two other customers at the counter. Ben slowly took a seat, looking around for the beautiful waitress from earlier. The elderly waitress approached him instead, putting a placemat and napkin in front of him as she methodically laid out a fork, knife, and spoon.

“What’ll ya have to drink, darlin?” She looked him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze, and Ben felt oddly… _assessed_ by her massive _,_ bespectacled eyes _,_ especially after she seemed to give a nod of approval.

“Coffee, decaf please. Ma’am - what - what happened? Where did everyone go?”

“Well, sweetie, that’s why they call it the rush. Don’t worry, it’ll be like that again in another hour. Or were you asking about where some _one_ in particular went?” the waitress asked with a very obvious wink.

“I - I-”

“Yeah, I thought so. _Rey!_ Customer for you!” She pushed a steaming coffee toward him, her other hand lifting up a massive tray that seemed to come from nowhere. _“Good luck!”_ she stage-whispered as she bustled away to one of the booths.

 

And then… there she was, a stunning angel armed with a dishrag. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and Ben swore he saw her pinks tinge slightly pink underneath her smattering of freckles - of course, he told himself, it was just the sweltering heat of the restaurant. She was a waitress, it was her job to make him feel attended to… cared for with just a look… _God_ he was such a creep.

“I’m so glad you came back! It’s a mess out there. What can I get started for you?”

“Whatever you want,” Ben blurted without thinking. His eyes widened in realization of what he just said as his mouth hung open slightly in horror.  “Did I just - oh God, I’m so sorry ma’am, it’s been a horrible day - I’m -”

The waitress - _Rey_ , as the other waitress and her bright yellow name tag proclaimed - leaned forward with a soft smile, propping her chin on her hand with her elbow on the counter. “Don’t worry about it - I mean, don’t take any offense, but you _look_ like you’ve had a horrible day. I’m just glad you came back to warm up and dry off. And…” she looked around with shifting eyes, her grin turning slightly devilish as she leaned even closer - “I won’t tell anyone if you use something in that brown paper bag of yours to make that coffee more interesting.”

 

Then she _booped_ his considerably large nose. _With her pen._ Ben Solo was not sure if it was possible for him to fall for this girl any harder.

“So then - your order, sir?”

_...fuck._


	2. Smothered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at love at first sight - this time, from Rey's perspective. And the weather keeps getting worse - what could POSSIBLY HAPPEN?

“I - I’m just going to step outside for a minute?”

“We’ll keep it warm for you!” Maz called out, elbowing Rey directly in the ribs as she whipped her phone out of her apron.

The jingle of the door opening and shutting, followed by the bracing blast of cold air from the outside corridor, was  _ finally _ enough to startle Rey back to her senses. Shaking her head, she began the mindless, methodical process of wiping and stacking dishes, her head in an absolute fog. Never, in her entire life, had she met someone eyes, and just-

“Mm-hmm.  _ Yep. _ That’s what I thought,” Maz drawled as she leaned against Rey, scrolling rapidly on her phone. From the pointedness of her tone, Rey could tell that Maz wanted her to ask about whatever she was doing on her phone (which was  _ comically _ large in the miniscule woman’s hands). Instead, Rey jutted her hips out to the side, forcing Maz to scoot down the counter so she could pick up a sad, fallen biscuit.

“Not that I care, but  _ some _ people might appreciate some help closing out this rush, Maz…” Rey said meaningfully, continuing to move Maz out of the way with nudges of her hips.

“Young lady, _ my _ shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes, and I’m going to use  _ every _ one of those minutes as well as I can. Besides, this is nothing. You handled the SEC championship just fine - or have you already forgotten?”

Rey suddenly went very still, her eyes widening at the suppressed memory. “I  _ tried _ to forget.”

“Anyway, don’t  _ you _ want to know more about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Wet before he gets back?”

Rey’s mind flashed back to the man who caught her eye at the door as she sorted silverware. He was certainly tall -  _ that _ had gotten her attention, she wasn’t a particularly short woman herself. And he looked mildly panicked, which was an oddly charming look on such a large man; she could tell that he was horribly uncomfortable in such a crowded area. He was hardly the first drenched businessman she had seen today, but there was just...  _ something…  _

“Maz, do you really think he’s coming - wait, y _ ou know him?” _

Maz’s mouth spread in a triumphant grin, knowing she had Rey hooked. “Rey, you know I know everyone. And darlin’, after that look he gave you? He’ll be back. They  _ always _ come back.”

“...’they?’”

“Those damn Solo boys. I know his parents, they’re old friends. But I haven’t seen Ben… it has to have been at  _ least _ ten years, bless that awkward boy’s heart.” Maz bumped Rey back playfully, still scrolling on her phone. “And let me tell you, those last ten years have treated that man  _ fine.” _

Rey found herself mentally agreeing - whatever he looked like before, she was a fan of the results. “I don’t know, Maz, that seems like an awfully big coincidence…”

“It really isn’t. He - Ben Solo, that is - he’s local. Last time I saw him, he was a tired, skinny little night air traffic controller almost straight out of college, making more money than he knew what to do with. I didn’t work graveyard shifts back then like I do now, but he and I crossed paths every now and then.”

“Air traffic controller out of college, huh?” Rey snorted as she restocked a napkin holder. “He must have had some good connections.”

“Well, there’s always that. I’d say it’s in his blood, too - his dad was a pilot for years before his eyes started going- hah!  _ There _ he is!”

Maz abruptly shoved her phone in Rey’s face, which was pulled up to a picture of an older woman with steel-grey hair who had her arms wrapped around a massive, incredibly handsome man with a beautiful head of black curls that just met the collar of his shirt.  _ ‘My baby is home for the holidays! <3 <3 <3 <3’ _ the tag proclaimed.

“None of you kids are on the dang Facebook anymore, but his mom always posts when he’s in Miami. Guess he couldn’t stay long, poor Leia. Oh well - her loss, your gain.”

_ “Maz… _ he’s just some guy who happened to come to the Waffle House. I’m not going to… I mean, there’s no point in getting my hopes- I - he’s just-” 

“Mm-hmm. You getting all tongue-tied over  _ “some guy,” _ Rey? He’s a good boy, from a good family. And you could use a good boy like that in your life. Besides, I saw the way  _ you _ looked at him, and the way  _ he _ looked at you. These old eyes have been around long enough to know love at first sight when I see-”

_ “Maz!” _ Rey moaned in embarrassment, burying her crimson face in her filthy dishrag.

“Miss Rey Niima, you are going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen good. I have known you for four years now - four years of you working every Christmas, convention, and championship down here,  _ and _ working up at that awful dining hall-” Rey opened her mouth to object, but Maz plowed on- “-and never  _ once _ have I heard you mention a special someone in your life. And here fate gives you this nice boy from a good family, who you  _ obviously _ took a shine to at first glance - and you’re just giving up already?” 

“Maz… it’s not…  _ giving up,”  _ Rey sighed, wringing out her dishrag to drop it in the bucket of sanitizer, grabbing a sponge while she was at it. “I don’t have  _ time _ for someone in my life. I  _ have _ to work. My scholarship only covers tuition, and I’m already in debt from books and fees, not to mention rent and everything else. I’m not one of these - one of these  _ Ben Solo _ s where I’m going to come out of college and start making $80k a year, that just doesn’t  _ happen _ anymore. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the time  _ or _ money for dating or - or whatever,” she finished lamely.  

_ “Hmph. _ The way I see it, you worry too much.” Maz snorted derisively, inspecting her nails with a critical eye. “People with good connections get good jobs and make good money, Rey. You could use someone like Ben Solo in your life.”

Rey paused mid-wipe of the counter in front of her, finally putting two and two together. “Oh my God, you want me to - to - I am  _ not _ looking for some sort of  _ sugar daddy hookup!” _

Maz raised her hands defensively. “You said it, not me. I was only implying that you’re graduating soon, and something tells me that a COO in the FAA would probably be able to do much better at finding a good job for you after college than, say, some college advisor who probably doesn’t even know your name.”

Sighing, Rey dropped the sponge, stretching out her aching back. “But that’s not… I don’t rely on other people, Maz. I  _ never _ have. I  _ like _ working for what I have, even if… Even if it is sometimes-”

“Lonely? Exhausting?  _ Depressing?” _ Maz reached up to pat Rey on the shoulder, shaking her head. “Rey, it’s all well and good to make it living alone, but there’s no sense in being lonely.  _ Especially _ at Christmas. Promise me you’ll give Ben a shot? When he comes back,  _ talk _ to him. If you don’t like him, no harm. But if you do?” Maz gave a suggestive shrug and a smug smile. “Who’s to say?”

She only needed one look at Maz’s piercing eyes to know that she wasn’t going to let this go.  _ “Fine. _ When -  _ if _ he comes back, I will try talking to him, if it makes you happy. But if it turns out he’s some sort of handsome serial killer, I am blaming you for  _ all _ of this when they find my body in Piedmont Park.”  

Maz gave a short bark of laughter, shaking her head. She herded Rey back toward the employee area with a poke in the spine. “Get back there and go put your face on. Or at the very least, get all that grease off your forehead, if you can. I’ll cover for you. He’ll be back soon enough, and I’d say we have about ten minutes before he might start to recognize me - then  _ you _ can lay on that British, co-ed, girl-wonder-engineer charm of yours real thick. And I mean…  _ thick.” _ Maz bustled back toward the counter with a perverse wink, Rey barely catching her mutter,  _ “Bless that boy’s heart, he was always oblivious...” _

 

Rey glanced up to catch a look at herself in the mirror, and nearly flinched away at the sight. Goodness, if this Ben Solo person was giving her the hairy eyeball when she looked like  _ this, _ maybe it really was love at first sight. She began to methodically pick small pieces of fried…  _ stuff _ out of her ponytail as she assessed the grease damage -  _ god, _ her skin practically shone, and not in the way advertised by conventional beauty products. She did what she could with the coarse paper towels from the dispenser above the sink, but they only left her skin still-greasy in some spots, and blotchy-pink in others from irritation at the rough texture.

_ “Rey! Customer for you!” _ Rey heard Maz shout from the counter. 

Her heart hammered against her chest as she gave herself one last look in the mirror (there was no hope) - why was she so  _ nervous?  _ This was just some guy here to get a coffee on a cold winter night. It was nothing she hadn’t seen a thousand times before before whenever she worked holidays at the Waffle House these last four years. The pay was crap compared to what she made working at Georgia Tech dining services, but the tips were usually fantastic this time of year from  _ all _ the customers, and not just the ones who had worked in the service industry.

That was how she needed to see him. This wasn’t the love of her life who just walked through the door, like Maz seemed to think. He was just another customer, and another customer she could charm the pants off of to get herself a decent tip for the night.

Rey was  _ really _ reevaluating her mental word choice when she came out of the back room - and there he was, sitting at the counter, an empty chair to either side of him. She gave a small gasp, blinking rapidly.

 

He was better-looking than she remembered, despite the fact that he seemed rather miserably wet and cold. One of his massive hands was idly worrying the edge of a paper napkin while the other clutched hard to a brown bag that Rey recognized from the liquor store down the street. Good god, those…  _ fingers. _ Rey gave herself a little shake, ready to put on her strongest friendly-Waffle-House-waitress schtick.  

“I’m so glad you came back! It’s a mess out there. What can I get started for you?”

“Whatever you want,” he replied somewhat dreamily, before horror seemed to take over his face. “Did I just - oh God, I’m so sorry ma’am, it’s been a horrible day - I’m -”

Rey had to stop herself from giggling at this handsome mountain of a man, who was shrinking in on himself in mortification. He must have been as oblivious in his youth as Maz implied - because he clearly still had the body language and awkward honesty of a man who wasn’t aware of how handsome he was.

“Don’t worry about it - I mean, don’t take any offense, but you  _ look _ like you’ve had a horrible day. I’m just glad you came back to warm up and dry off. And I won’t tell anyone if you use something in that brown bag of yours to make that coffee more interesting.”

And then - she couldn’t stop herself, it was as though his face was begging for it - she poked his prominent nose with the top of her pen.  _ What the hell are you doing??  _ her inner thoughts screamed as she tried to carry on as usual. “So then - your order, sir?”

His mouth hung open, seemingly dumbstruck. “Coffee,” he replied hoarsely. Blinking, he seemed to collect himself. “Ah, coffee, please, ma’am. If I could also get a regular size of hashbrowns smothered, covered, and lots of jalapenos, please. And - and a pecan waffle, please, ma’am.”

Rey’s mouth twisted in concern, nodding as she wrote up his ticket. “I’ll get that coffee for you right away -  _ single hashbrowns, smothered, covered, and double peppered-” _ she called out to the grill behind her- “-and I’ll see what I can do about that pecan waffle, we might be out of pecans…”

“Oh, that’s fine, I don’t mind. Plain waffle is - it’s fine. Don’t go to any extra trouble for me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr…?” Rey asked leadingly, trying to pretend as though she hadn’t heard this man’s life story just minutes ago. 

“Ben Solo. But, please, just Ben.”

“Ok, Mr. Solo,” she said with a smile. “I’m Rey.”

 

With a practiced ease, Rey pivoted on her heel to grab a mug still piping hot from the dishwasher, filling it with coffee and passing it to a grateful-looking Ben. She stared at his long neck muscles working as he swallowed for a moment longer than was probably appropriate -  _ what was wrong with her?! _ She began bussing the place next to where he sat - and if she perhaps tilted her hips a little more than was really necessary… well, who was to say?

“So, Mr. Solo. Where were you trying to go before the airport shut down? Everyone seems to have a story tonight.”

“I - well, I actually live not too far from here, but I was trying to get up to DC.” He looked around suspiciously, before taking up Rey on her suggestion - she saw him pour the entire contents of a mini Jack Daniels into his coffee. “Hopefully, I’ll be on my way back up there before too long.”

“And what is it that you do in DC, Mr. Solo?”

He pinkened, running his fingers through his soaking-wet hair. “I work for the FAA. And you really don’t have to - I mean, Ben is just fine.”

Rey rolled her eyes, grinning. “My manager would kill me if she heard me calling a customer I just met by their first name. Besides, I  _ like _ calling you Mr. Solo, it has a nice sound to it.”  _ I could get used to calling you Mr., _ some dark part of Rey whispered. She cleared her throat, hoping her blush wasn’t too prominent. “So, the FAA? It seems like you should be the first person to know what’s going on with the airport in this storm.”

“One would think…” he muttered darkly, drinking deeply from his coffee. Rey leaned forward to refill it slightly, leaving space at the top. He glanced back and forth between her and the coffee, smirking slightly as he cracked open another mini. “So tell me about you - how does someone as - I mean, you’re very -” he coughed, downing more coffee. “Forgive me for saying this, but you’re very, ah,  _ young _ to be stuck working at a Waffle House.”

“Oh, I’m just a student. Hopefully I won’t be doing this for too much longer - the pay is crap, but the tips are pretty good. The company is sometimes even better,” Rey finished with a wink.

Ben swallowed nervously, but his eyes never left hers. “Right. A student? What year - I mean, what’s your major?”

Rey began shucking food off dirty plates with a small smile. He was trying to figure out if she was too young for him. “I’m a senior at Georgia Tech. Mecanical Engineering, with a concentration in manufacturing.”

He returned her smile, a slight air of confidence coming to him that she hadn’t seen yet. “Ahh, so you’re at Tech.  _ Nerd!”  _ he coughed, meeting her eye with a twinkle.  _ “Go Dawgs,”  _ he added with a whisper.

“Oh  _ no. _ And you seemed so charming before, but now I know better.” Rey held her hand over her heart, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I had enough of you UGA people in here a couple weeks ago, crying about Alabama -  _ again.” _

“All right, little nerd. _You_ get to talk trash when  _ your _ team doesn’t lose to two basketball schools in one season.”

Rey wagged her finger in front of his face with a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry, but party school frat boys who want pecans in their waffles should mind their manners, shouldn’t they? ”

“Yes ma’am. ...and I wasn’t in a frat.” he said with the smallest of pouts. “More like… Anime Club,” he muttered under his breath, draining the remainder of his coffee.

Rey giggled, refilling his coffee just below full once again. “Let me see what I can do about a pecan waffle for you, but you might just have to have my favorite instead.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a secret,” Rey replied with another wink. She crouched below the counter, seeking out where they kept the extra pecans.

 

“So. How’s it going.”

Rey gave a startled  _ eek _ as she jumped slightly, thoroughly braining the top of her skull on the countertop. “Ow!  _ Maz!” _ she whispered furiously, one hand clutching her head as the other still searched for pecans. Maz was squatting right beside her, displaying an unusual degree of flexibility and balance for a woman her age. “It’s… going. And it would be going a lot better if you hadn’t just scared me,  _ and _ if your boyfriend hadn’t eaten the rest of the pecans earlier!”

Maz’s eyes lit up, and a devious grin spread across her face. “Rey, be a dear and stay out of sight. You can go check the back room and see if we have any more pecans, I’ve got this handled.” Maz leaned over to grab a small step stool beneath the counter, climbing up on it as she braced her arms on the counter directly in front of-

_ “BEN SOLO!” _

“Erm, hello again - oh - holy - M- _ Ms. Kanata?!” _

“Are you driving home tonight, Ben? It’s too dangerous out there, you’ll make your mother worry.”

“Well, you see-”

 

Rey took this opportunity to shuffle away under cover of the counter, finally letting herself stand up when she knew she was out of sight. She mindlessly began pawing through the back storage room, only slightly being able to concentrate on finding pecans.

What… what was  _ happening? _ She had never met someone like this, someone who she felt like she had known for years within minutes of meeting him. Maybe there was something to Maz’s deranged insistence that this was love at first sight, and that she should… hook up with Ben Solo. Rey gave a small shiver at the thought - he wasn’t like any boy she had known before. For starters, he was decisively a  _ man, _ not some acne-covered mathematics major that she fumbled with in the backseat of a car her freshman year, or an overeager biochem major with filthy sheets and a short… timer.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Maybe she deserved to place her trust in Maz, and in this total stranger, and just let herself _live_ for once. Rey grabbed a bag of peanut butter chips on her way out of storage, nodding to herself decisively. She could make this happen. She could… get his number, or whatever it was people did.

Rey handed off the peanut butter chips to one of the cooks, telling him with a grin that she’d need a “Rey Special.” The cook rolled his eyes good-naturedly, grabbing a fistful of chocolate chips that he dumped into an awaiting uncooked waffle, along with half the bag of peanut butter chips, the smell immediately making Rey’s mouth water.

 

“Isn’t  _ that _ interesting.  _ Rey _ \- oh good, you’re back.” Rey had never seen Maz look so pleased with herself in the four years that she had known her. She appeared to have Ben’s wrist in a steel grip in one hand, and snatched Rey’s arm in a similar manner, bringing her closer to the counter. “Ben was just telling me about how MARTA is down because of the weather. Isn’t that just  _ terrible?” _

Rey’s heart genuinely sunk. “Oh. Oh no, I - I’ll have to…” her mind raced - she was off at midnight. Usually, she would just hop on one of the many airport shuttle busses and get on the 12:40 Gold Line home. She would be home by 1, and have two glorious days off - as she had for the last four years, she drew the short straw when it came to scheduling. She would end up working the far more chaotic, drunken, and less tip-friendly New Years, instead of the calmer, relatively quieter Christmas. But now…

 

“E-excuse me, Maz, Mr. Solo. I’ll - I’ll just be a moment.” Rey pulled away from Maz, her hand going to her pocket to pull out her cracked, battered phone. Her roommates had gone home for the holidays - Rey had actually been looking forward to having the tiny apartment to herself for once. Finn had gone all the way up to Ellijay with his new boyfriend, there was no hope there. Rose? Rose didn’t have a car, but maybe-

“Erm, Rey? If you need somewhere for the night, I’ve - I’ve got a room at the Hilton.”

Maz flashed a triumphant grin. At the same time, Ben once again went wide-eyed and red-faced in mortification. “Oh - oh  _ god, _ I didn’t mean for it to sound - I mean, I’m pretty sure there’s two beds, and I wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight anyway-” he had the distinct look of a man who was painfully aware he was digging himself deeper and deeper-  _ “Oh my god. _ I mean, the room is yours, if you want it. I can go back to the airport, hopefully take the 5AM back to DC.”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Solo, but I couldn’t possibly- I’ll - I’ll find a way home, I’m sure-”

“I don’t know what dream world you two are living in, but have either of you taken a look outside in the last twenty minutes?” Maz interrupted, adding in a mutter  _ “Too busy making goo-goo eyes at each other…” _

 

The windows of the Waffle House were completely fogged over, but Rey could definitely see that it was… brighter.  _ Why is it brighter at 11 PM?  _ Ben took two long strides over to the window, wiping it with his sleeve - 

White. Almost pure white, as snow fell heavily outside the window. It was even sticking to the asphalt, and the cars parked outside were already thoroughly coated. This certainly explained why business had gotten so slow in the last half hour. Even if she called in every favor she was owed, there was no way Rey was going to get back up to Midtown tonight.

“All that sleet just made everything cold enough for it to stick. Weather Channel says this could keep up all night. Sorry, kids - looks like neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon.”

Ben sat heavily at the counter, dumping another shot of Jack Daniels in his coffee. “Rey, I  _ insist _ you take my room. I’ll walk back to the airport, and-”

“Ben, will you stop being so noble  _ for one second,  _ and let your Auntie Maz help? I have a phone call to make.”

Maz walked away with a swagger in her step that Rey found… concerning.

“That’s… worrisome.” Ben echoed her thoughts, scratching at his head.

“ _ ‘Auntie?’ _ ”

“Maz is... a family friend, but I haven’t seen her in ages. She’s been dating my - well, he’s not my blood uncle, technically, but - she’s been with Uncle Chewie for, like, twenty years now.” Ben sat up a little straighter, looking worried. “Oh god, she’s probably calling him now.”

“Chewie -  you mean _ Mr. Bacca?  _ He’s - he’s one of my regulars!”

_ “Counter order up!”  _ yelled the cook behind Rey, who automatically began accepting plates from him.

Ben looked up at Rey, incredulous. “How is it that you seem to know my entire family? Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me that you’re a robotics minor and you work with my Uncle Luke.”

Rey brushed aside that she  _ very much _ knew Dr. Skywalker, who had been trying to get her to join his program for the last two years. She set the waffle and hashbrowns in front of Ben, stooping to grab the whipped cream from the refrigerator under the counter. “Mr. Bacca is the reason we’re out of pecans. And why is it so bad that Maz would be calling him?”

“Chewie looks out after my house when I’m not here - but that’s not the…  _ God, _ he’s going to call my parents, then my mom is going to call me and tell me that if I had just listened, none of this would have happened…” Ben buried his face in his hands, sighing deeply. “This is  _ exactly _ why I wanted to be alone this Christmas.”

“...oh,” breathed Rey, nodding. Of  _ course, _ she was so dumb. He had made it abundantly clear on several occasions now that he was offering her his room - without him in it. And now he had just blatantly said he just wanted to be alone-

“No, wait, Rey - that came out wrong. I want you - I mean, you’re not - you don’t give me a migraine within seconds of talking to you, for starters. You’re like,  _ nothing.” _

 

They held a long, awkward gaze that was thankfully interrupted by Maz before it evolved into further misunderstanding. 

 

“Ben, your Uncle Chewie will be here in the morning with your truck. If you know what’s good for you, you and Miss Rey here will drive down to Fayetteville and stay there until this whole thing blows over.”

“I -  _ what?” _

“You mark my words, when the power goes out - yes,  _ when, _ not  _ if _ \- you’ll both be thankful that your grandmother insisted on not blocking up the fireplaces when they renovated that house of yours.”

“And for the propane tank…” Ben murmured, still looking at Rey with pleading eyes. 

She wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was trying to achieve in calling her  _ ‘nothing,’ _ but he certainly looked regretful. And with those huge, sorrowful eyes - she  _ supposed _ she could forgive him, he seemed far too awkward to be actively trying to "neg" her, or whatever. But to just foist herself on him for the next 24 hours, when she had _just_ met him? Certainly, the back of her mind had been supplying her with more than enough fantasies of what, exactly, they could get up to in that amount of time, but reality was a harsh mistress.

“Maz, I appreciate what you’re doing, but Ben, I - I couldn’t possibly impose-”

“God, Rey, you wouldn’t be imposing, not at all-”

“Oh, and Chewie had a message for you, Ben - and I quote - well, I guess I  _ translate, _ since that man doesn’t speak anything other than Swedish when he doesn’t want to… Anyway, he said that if you weren’t a gentleman and didn’t keep his baby bear Rey safe tonight  _ and _ tomorrow, he would rip your arm off. End quote.”

Ben gaped openmouthedly, then nodded slowly. “Well I guess that settles that.”

“Ben! I’m not going to - I’m sure he was joking-” Rey spluttered.

“He wasn’t. When your shift is over, you’re coming with me, end of story.” Ben stated bluntly, digging into his hashbrowns with more than a little vigor.

A thrill of…  _ something _ ran through Rey, sinking low into her belly. Who knew that this blushing, stuttering man had such a decisive side to him? But still… Rey looked to Maz desperately, who shook her head, grinning ear-to-ear. “Chewie accidentally dislocated Ben’s arm when he was just three. Apparently, the threat of a repeat incident remains. Now are you going to finish off that boy’s waffle, or what?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Here, a Rey Special.” Rey used the can of whipped cream still in her hand to draw a yin-yang on the waffle, demarcating the peanut butter versus chocolate sections.

Ben met her eyes with a crooked smile. “...is it special because it’s going to give me diabetes?”

Just for that, Rey put an extra pile of whipped cream right in the middle, sauntering off with a huff.

What had she gotten herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt cutoff, I just realized how long this chapter was getting, and thought to myself "huh, this might be a double update kind of day." Thank you so much for your wonderful comments, and can you tell I'm enjoying writing such fluffy dialogue? Alternative Methods should update at some point in the next 24 hours, and hell, this probably will too. I'm on break, my husband's on call, and I'm on a roll!

**Author's Note:**

> Never did I expect that, on the one-year anniversary of Footnotes, I'd hammer out 3K words of a Waffle House AU instead of publishing my next chapter of that, but here we are. This will be super short and sweet. Comments/reviews greatly appreciated, and I apologize for any errors, since I just wrote this whole thing in like three hours.
> 
> This may end up explicit, and this will probably be the only chapter I publish sober.


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